“So what are you having?” he asked.

“I don’t know. You seem to know what I like.”

“What do you like?”

“I’d like for my date to be on time. And in the future, if he’s going to be late, I’d like for him to call or text to let me know.”

“So you’re saying there will be another date. Or should I say, future dates?”

“Let’s get through this one first.” She smiled at him.

It was easy to be with him, she noted. Some dates were so strained, uncomfortable.

“Fair enough,” he said.

“I’ll have the fire hot wings,” she said.

“Can you handle the fire hot wings?” he asked with a huge grin.

She peeked over the top of the menu. Took note of how handsome he was—dark face, silky, smooth skin. Perfectly trimmed hair and mustache with just a hint of gray. His arms were strong, and his hands were huge. She wondered what it would feel like to be hugged by those arms, but not more than she wondered what the story was behind his sad eyes.

“I can handle a lot.” She smiled back at him.